Flowers on Fire
by Prose Vanity
Summary: Against the war and all the thoughts of him dying, the lightning hit the lake. When all else failed, he came to her, and never had his voice sounded as sweet as it did when he called out her name after so long. "Tadaima, Mikan."


_Ashynote _Inspired by Early Winters's _Count Me In. _I'm not sure how this should be rated by I put it in M just to be sure. That having been said, there will be no explicit depictions in this fic.

Dedicated to **Maria**, **Cara**, **Natsu**, **Su-chi**, **Jerris**, **Erika**, **Yas**, and all my **AoGA** friends. Also dedicated to my readers, who've stuck with me even through my irregular (and infuriating) update habits. Special dedication to **Elle**/**Ria**/**Winterberrytrillium**/**WinterGlassSwallow**. Thank you for always making me smile like crazy; you're always there and I want you to know how your presence gets me through writing.

**-;-**

**Flowers on Fire**

* * *

The bell rang; another subject had ended. Jinno took one last sweeping gaze at all the faces of his students, his brown eyes resting a fraction of a second longer on the glum picture that Mikan Sakura posed. He sighed deeply and said, "There will be no homework for today."

On a normal day, the class would have been roaring in delight. As loath as he was to admit it, Jinno missed the usual ruckus. At his pronouncement, the students only looked at him and nodded, whereas the brunette at the far end of the room merely put her things back in her bag.

Mikan glanced at his empty seat and felt a quiet explosion in her chest—the bomb was all of fear and yearning and desperation of all sorts. The emptiness of that one small space felt like a large, swirling vacuum to her, depriving her of the norms of breathing and smiling. The class had not seen Mikan Sakura's trademark smile for months now; whenever she did, it was always only a small quirk of the lips, and her eyes avoided contact with anyone else's. She knew she was acting off, but somehow she did not want to stay as strong anymore, like she used to be whenever he left for longer than normal. It was selfish of her to do so, very selfish, but for once in her life she opted to let it all out.

She was getting tired of the seemingly endless cycle of waiting that went with being a part of Natsume's life.

She bid him goodbye four months ago, sealed with a kiss. The mission was only supposed to last a week. He had assured her and all the rest of the gang that it was going to be a simple one, reconnaissance work, and for the life of her she could not imagine what could possibly have caused a week to extend to a month. Thinking of the possibilities made her head spin and her chest hurt.

There were news of deaths as the Alice War kept raging on around them. Each time someone brought gloomy tidings to the class, everyone would stop for a moment of silence and pray that it wasn't someone from their end. The Academy tried hard to maintain a facade of pure calm, but amidst all their attempt at normality, the truth still showed through the cracks in everything that was inside all four vast walls of the school. Ruka and Hotaru had both withdrawn into the comforts of their solitude. Teachers dismissed classes. Exams were postponed. Dangerous Abilities were all sent out on missions, and even a select few from other mixed classes were sent out.

And their ray of sunshine, the girl named after the flower that always bloomed even in winter, was running out of fuel. Her light was wavering, and the thought of it going out completely scared the class more than anything else.

* * *

For months she had looked out her window and prayed for him to come back. That night was no different. She stood in her balcony, wearing nothing but the silken nightdress he gave her for her eighteenth birthday, and waited.

The December wind was colder than any wind she had ever known. In her head she prayed to all the gods that every human claimed to exist. Outside the walls, a war was happening. She hated the people who judged them who were left inside the Academy. A few hours ago, a Dangerous Ability returned from his failed mission and Mikan ran to see him and ask about Natsume. The boy glared at her and sent a blade of ice her way only for her to nullify it. It fell back to the floor as water.

"You only think about yourself," the boy spat at her. "All of you, sitting pretty here, waiting around for us to finish your wars for you while you stay in school, and study, and eat and breathe and _live!_"

He sent ice daggers her way, but the anger had built up inside her and the shards of ice stopped inches from piercing through her small body. She was shaking with fury.

"How _dare_ you judge me like that," she mumbled. The boy glared back at her. "You don't _know_, you have no idea how difficult it is to watch you _get hurt. You don't know how I feel."_

"Stop acting like a hero, Sakura," the boy shot at her. "While Natsume dies for you, you stand around her protecting no one but yourself."

Old wounds burst open at the boy's comment. It was true, but its truth only made it hurt more. She was alone with the boy, with no one to protect her from herself, and so she ended up clutching the boy's shirt by the neck, hissing vehemently. "You don't know how it _feels_ to fight a war against yourself, having to fight against thinking of reality and what could happen while hoping for the best. Don't _judge _me. You know _nothing._"

She ran back to her room and locked herself, then began her waiting. She had been standing on the balcony ever since.

_If you exist, please lead him home to me tonight._

A slow but steady breeze was blowing over the vast expanse of the academy. She stood still, looking at the direction of the gates, remembering the last time she had felt him close. She tried to remember his smile, the lines of his face, the shine in his eyes every time she looked deep into them, deep enough to get lost but shallow enough to be found by him and his kiss; she tried hard to recreate from memory the warmth of his skin, but tried harder not to recall the way it felt when he drew back and took all the warmth with him. Somehow, though, the more she wanted to forget that part, the more she ended up remembering. And it haunted her, night after night after night.

She closed her eyes. _I pray to all of you, any one of you, please… bring him back to us. To me._

A huge burst of wind passed over her and her frail, freezing body but she paid no heed. If there was a price to pay for her prayers, if she needed to stand outside in the cold waiting for the gods to answer her prayer, waiting for him to come home, then so be it.

His name was the prayer she whispered ever so quietly to herself. She felt a tear fall from her eyes, and yet she made no move, even as the wind around her grew strong and violent, and the little light behind her eyelids disappeared. Not even when a drop of water fell on her cheeks.

Not even when the rain started to pour hard.

_So be it. _

A month without him, without knowing where he was or what was happening to him… A month living in the shadows of uncertainty and fear, watching the dwindling of assurances and the fading of hopes around all who knew him and cared for him…

She couldn't take any more of that.

She stood on her balcony amidst the curtains of rain that fell on her like sharp shards of ice, feeling water run down her cheeks, soaking her body, her feet, her dress twice as heavy but not as heavy as the fear everyone else felt.

_Bring him ho—_

"Mikan."

Her eyes flew open at the sound of the voice, and she gasped as warm, strong arms wrapped around her. Only then, as she felt the familiar kisses make its way from her temple, to her cheek, to her neck, did she realize how terribly cold it was.

She turned around and felt a part of herself come back to her as she looked into his dark, dark eyes and his pale face. When her lips found his, her chest gave out a painful throb and her mind went blissfully blank.

"We should get out of the rain," he whispered into her ear, grabbing her arms and whirling her back into the comforts of indoors.

He closed the balcony and stepped into her room. For a moment none of them could speak. She certainly couldn't. All she did was stare and stare and stare at him, drinking in his presence and feeling temperatures rise within her. Her eyes were dry but it felt like she was going to cry and her throat was blocked and her heart was pounding so loud and hard against her chest—

"Natsume," the name came out as a wispy sound, but she heard, and she knew he did too. "Natsu—"

He walked up to her and in a swift, strong move he unfurled his arms from his sides and scooped her into them, dragging her into his smell and his heat. For a while the thought of heaven crossed her mind. And his _smell_—that scent, that musk, it stained her thoughts and fogged her mind and destroyed every single inch of her rationality sweet second by sweet second until all she could think of was how she missed him, and how she felt his being meld into hers… A life with him flashed behind her eyelids and shattered all reality until illusion was all she had left that was true. And his hands, slowly his hands found the hem of her dress just as soon as she found his and she couldn't think straight as they were both pulling and pulling, up, up, _up…_

As she felt the rush of the cold December air wrap itself around her naked torso, as she saw her dress drop to the floor on top of his… God, whoever He is, could only tell anyone else what she felt and thought. All the while she just stared into his eyes. In that moment, she could not think of anything else she could do.

But as his warm, warm hands touched the skin of her waist and she felt his heart beat in his chest fast enough to rival hers, she closed her eyes and let everything else take place. And his eyes, those bright, round things that gazed at her with a kind of intense affection she never knew of before, were the last things she saw before she closed hers and let herself lean closer to him. She could not tell one thing from another anymore — all she knew were the feel of his fingers as they made their way across the length of her arm, from shoulder, to elbow, to wrist, and finally to hand. She could feel his hand against her back, grazing her skin with touches of lightning on water, and the breaths that came out in bursts during the pauses between each maddening kiss.

He laid her gently on her bed and she realised how needy his kisses were. Each stroke of the lips was urgent, demanding...most of all it was full of yearning, and she knew he had been feeling the same way all throughout those four long weeks. She responded with fervour, allowing her hands to rove around his back, painting murals and feeling scars of old that never fully healed... His kisses made their way to her neck, and in the rare moments when her eyes opened, she saw their clothes scattered at the foot of the bed.

It was a game of touches and kisses, a game they had wanted to play since their first taste of the freedom of coming undone with each other held tight in their arms. How romantic and fitting it was, then, that all their waiting had ended the moment he returned from unknown dangers. Their breaths were laboured, but she heard more than their panting.

"Mikan," he breathed into her ear.

And with a gasp, the pieces of their puzzles fit perfectly. He kissed her with every motion, and she held him close. The euphoria that enveloped them both in a sense of fulfilment did not die out even as they fell asleep.

There was time for proper thinking in the morning. For now she let herself wallow in a trance. Confusion still remained in her thoughts, but that could wait.

"Tadaima, Mikan," were the last words he said before she drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

_Okaeri, Natsume._

* * *

_For those who do not know, "tadaima" means "I'm home" and "Okaeri" means "Welcome home." __I hope you liked this piece. Let me know of your thoughts.  
~Ash._


End file.
